


Nature's Masterpiece

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Ficlet, Fluffy Angst, about family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5928826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"I'll never stop dreaming that one day we can be a real family, together, all of us laughing and talking, loving and understanding, not looking at the past but only to the future." --LaToya Jackson</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Scully knows what Mulder wants from her; she wants it too, eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nature's Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever x-files fic, holy moly. 
> 
> i've only just started watching the series on netflix, and i'm only up through s4e5, so this doesn't take into account anything beyond that. it's directly inspired by s4e2 "Home", and the scene in the field at the beginning of the episode, just the way they talked about building a family and how much Mulder seemed to cling to the idea of Scully as a mom.
> 
> just a drabble to get some feels out and test the water in writing these two. no dialogue, just emotions. enjoy!

She knows, from the sidelong glances she catches and from the curve of his lips when he thinks she’s not looking, she _knows_. She _knows_ that Mulder loves the idea of them settling down, creating a family, living on a farm just like he said. She _knows_ that he’s often picturing an idyllic future where her belly is swollen with yet another kid and they can always see the stars from their front porch. She _knows_ what Mulder sees when he looks at her, and it both terrifies her and excites her.

There’s tension, because Scully is clearly aware of his thoughts. But they don’t talk about these things, not really. Some days it feels like that time is creeping up on them far too quick—these are the days when Scully fears her age the most, and fears their jobs, and fears for their lives. She fears the laugh lines that crease Mulder’s face and frets, ever silently, over waking up each morning and feeling older. She fears what they might become if they don’t act soon enough.

When they kiss and when they touch, she can feel the sparks that travel between them. Some sparks are innocent enough, sharp but loving. Other sparks are less kind, and when Mulder presses his fingertips against her stomach Scully feels electrocuted. He always kisses her skin apologetically, but shocks always remain burned into her skin, reminders of the clock ticking down for both of them.

Some nights, they do talk about it, in a way. Usually after they’re both sated and just teetering on the edge of sleep. Mulder will be wrapped around her and murmuring in her ear. He’ll apologize sweetly, sadly, swearing that he doesn’t want to pressure her. He jokes, sometimes, playing on her strength and individuality as a woman, though he’s never unkind. He promises he’ll wait until she’s ready; he also makes _her_ promise that if he ever goes too far, to smack him upside the head. She never verbally agrees, but he acts as though she does.

Usually, on those nights, it’s really less ‘them’ talking, and more Mulder talking while Scully pretends to be asleep. But she’s listening, intently. She takes everything he says to heart even after she has heard it for the thousandth time.  She tries to let the words soothe her, as intended. But it only works as a temporary fix, never for as long as either of them would like.

On those nights, after Mulder has finally talked himself to sleep and Scully is still awake, she can’t help but pull to mind the way he spoke so reverently of building a family. How he had scoffed at the notion of living in the suburbs or city with a family, and how he had ever so gently rubbed her back as they discussed the merit of their genetics.

She thinks of the softly sad gaze in his eyes he had back then, and how it mirrors the sad smiles he sometimes wears now. When she knows he’s asleep, she’ll turn in his arms and their noses will brush. When she knows he’s asleep, she’ll make promises of her own: whispering to him how they’ll get there one day, and she promises to love it even when it terrifies her down to her core. She promises, hushed words beating against Mulder’s lips, that she’ll give him everything he wants, one day.

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from George Santayana, _"the family is one of nature's masterpieces."_


End file.
